Northern_Lights_2017

15 Dark Dark Dark Erin Noehre Oh the Unspeakable things Part One: Oh how the man you told no Tenderly pulled your insides out And kissed conniption to pieces. How the men you loved Years later, Pulped your insides As you said consent And all those gasping thank you’s. Oh how wicked you are Without anyone ever seeing Why. Part Two: I. The wood pleads more obvious in my headlights This night. More than any other night. More than any other red first match light. I can’t help but put you there, In the spaces In the spaces In the filled-out psycho-brown edges Of branches. My back stiffens. Caught dead again. Oh what these spaces do, To remind me Of how many men wanted me thickets thin and in my plank. Wanted me six-inch nailed down. Wonder trapped. Maybe that’s why coffins wait in all my eye lines. By the way The street lamps turned green. Though I’d rather they be orange. Tinting my night world warm and caustic Like that August Like that night in August. That last night. In August. When you left me On the cement sunk stairs, As I begged all the ancient wooden doors And hollow sycamore trees If they would they please dangle what was left of me From the ochre stunk branches